300 Pages
105K words are now recorded for Flesh Pets, and it’s still not done! I’m really close to the conclusion of the book, but I’m unable to stop myself from adding more, telling more of the story. When I started I never thought I would have too much to say.
Here’s a sample from the chapter I’m working on right now. In it, the main character, Charlie, has let himself go, let himself and the people around him down and completely isolated himself. He has just learned that his estranged ten year-old son has come to visit him unexpectedly.
I suppose you could make your own metaphors for those singular moments when you are “discovered,” when you are absolutely and undeniably revealed to both the audience of your life and to yourself. Maybe the police come to your door with a warrant for your arrest, or your best friend reveals some heinous betrayal, or you witness an act so vile, your faith instantly vaporizes back into the gas you knew it always was. No amount of composure can buffer against the catastrophic change as you instantly deflate and weakly attempt to re-pressurize for the coming wind. If such a blow comes with enough vigor, it will smash you with a new gaping mouth, darken those two duplicitous eyes, and crush your once tolerable posture. From your corporeal wreckage, you may even recognize the possibility that you will never fully reset these physical features, never again hide from who you are, what you’ve become, and what you’ll never regain.